


My Friend Hamilton Whom I Shot

by orphan_account



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, M/M, Sort of anyway, Suicide, the first part hurts, the second part is mostly cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-07
Updated: 2016-04-07
Packaged: 2018-05-31 20:14:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6485971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There were many men who, in Burr's humble opinion, deserved to be shot. Alexander Hamilton had never been one of them. </p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>Burr makes a grave decision. Afterlife doesn't suck as much as he expects.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Friend Hamilton Whom I Shot

**Author's Note:**

> so i basically listened to The World Was Wide Enough and got feels. it happens. so i just sat down and wrote a short thing. hope you enjoy!

There were many men who, in Burr's humble opinion, deserved to be shot. Alexander Hamilton had never been one of them. He'd been arrogant, obnoxious, never stopped talking, but he'd been a good man. Mistakes were made, by both Burr and his former friend, but it should still never have come to this. Their fates had been intertwined since the day they'd met, but none of them had ever expected it to end like this. Hell, even Burr had imagined sitting on his porch one day, with Alexander and Eliza, his Theodosias by his side, but men like Aaron Burr didn't deserve a happy ending, apparently.

The message of Hamilton's death had arrived mere hours after the duel had taken place, and Burr had locked himself in his office. The only happy thought he had was that Theodosia wasn't here to learn about what he'd done. She, her husband and little Aaron were supposed to visit next week. Burr knew that he wouldn't be able to look her in the eye. She'd named her child after him – after a man who had never dared to stand for anything, who had thought it smart to hold back only to act too fast for once in his life in the worst possible moment.

Drinks weren't helping anymore at this point. Nothing was helping. There had been tears, earlier, but even those had stopped coming after a while. He didn't deserve to cry anyway. The people who had loved and supported Hamilton all his life did.  
Burr... had loved Hamilton like a brother, had seen him as his only real friend, the only one he trusted completely, and he'd thrown that away in a heartbeat because of his ambition. Stupid, selfish, ignorant Aaron Burr, the man who had shot Alexander Hamilton, that was how he'd go down in history. So much for his legacy. Not that he'd ever cared much about what people would think of him after he was dead – but he was going to leave the world to Theodosia, and she'd have to deal with his reputation long after he was gone.

There was nothing left to fix. Nothing left for him to do. This had left him with one last decision.   
_Be decisive for once in your life, Sir,_ he thought he heard Hamilton say. His hands did not shake when he reached for his gun, the damned thing, and he glanced down at his desk, where the note was sitting.

_I'm sorry,_ was all it said, because that was all he needed. He'd never been a man of many words, and he hoped they would understand. Would understand that he meant Eliza, Angelica, the Hamilton children, the people he'd betrayed, but above all Alexander and his little Theodosia. It would be better for her to have nothing than a murderer for a father. Of course he knew that she'd grieve, and he hadn't wanted her to end up an orphan like him, had only thought about that on that field before the fatal shot. But his thoughts were clear now. She had her husband, her child, she would be fine. Better off, even.

Burr swallowed hard as he got up, still holding his gun, and unlocked the door, to make sure the maid would find him in a couple hours, when the night was over and a new day arrived.  
There would be no more tears. No more mistakes. Just peace.  
He sat back down at his desk, as if he was planning on working or finishing a letter instead of ending what should probably have ended in the war.  
The gun was cool in his hand as he stared down the barrel, like he'd done countless times. This was the gun that had killed Hamilton. It was only fair that it would be the one to kill Burr as well.

His finger laid over the trigger, and Burr, the coward he was, closed his eyes.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“You goddamn asshole!”   
Well, that was confusing. And loud. And familiar.  
Burr groaned and turned over, wanting to bury his face back in his pillow. Only then he realized, he wasn't even lying in his bed but on soft grass. It was tickling his skin. Strange.  
“No, you don't go back to sleep on me, I have something to say!”  
Yes, Burr definitely knew that voice, and that tone.  
“Leave me alone. Go bother someone else”, he murmured. Hands grabbed his shoulder and turned him around forcefully. Burr blinked up and flinched by the close proximity of the other man's face hovering above him.

“Hamilton, I swear to God...”  
“Shut up! I'm so fucking angry at you, Burr! How could you?”  
Wait... what was Hamilton angry about?   
Burr frowned, trying to remember.  
Then...  
Oh.

“I'm so sorry, Alexander”, he whispered, trying to sit up, but Hamilton firmly pushed him back into the grass.  
“Damn right. But I think you're apologizing for the wrong thing.” His voice was softer now, impossibly soft and no, Burr didn't deserve any of that.  
“I shot you!”, he protested, only to be silenced by Hamilton's hand firmly pressed to his mouth.  
“You did, and I know you regretted it the moment you saw what you'd done. I saw your eyes before I fell. I heard you shouting at the others when they didn't let you rush to my side and hold my hand like I was some little boy. And I forgave you. We're both to blame for what happened.”

Burr was silent for a moment, even after Hamilton lowered his hand and let him sit up.  
“I... don't deserve that. But it's not my place to tell you what to do, I learned that a long time ago. May I ask what it is you're mad at me for, then?”  
Hamilton looked away, frown back on his face and Burr realized for the first time that he looked so much younger. Like all the sorrows of years had been washed off him.

“You do know that you're dead?”, Hamilton asked and Burr snorted.  
“I sort of figured that. Always knew I wouldn't get my peace and quiet from you even after death”, he commented, hoping to make his old friend smile, but Hamilton didn't.

“Care to explain to me why you would think it necessary to remove yourself from the world?”  
Burr sighed and gave a shrug.  
“Why not?”, he asked in return, too tired to explain his thoughts when Hamilton wouldn't listen anyway.  
“Why not?”, the other repeated, incredulous, “Why not?! What about Theodosia? What about-” He stopped himself and Burr thought it was because he couldn't think about anyone else who would even care. But when Hamilton reached up to cup his cheek, he knew there was someone, at least.  
“What about me?”

“Alexander...” Burr turned his head away, in shame. It was true, even in his last action he'd been selfish. “Theodosia is better off without me. Everyone is. I'm not like you, I never did any good.”  
Alexander made a sound of disagreement in the back of his throat, and in the next moment there were arms wrapped around Burr and a face pressed against his shoulder.  
“We fought a war together. You saved my life more than once, just like I saved yours, back then. And when I woke up in our tent in the middle of the night, screaming, you'd be there and you'd read me poetry. Do you remember that?”  
Burr did. “You tried to write me poems after nights like that, and you failed spectacularly. And you threatened to strangle me if I told anyone that the great Alexander Hamilton couldn't write poetry, when you were so perfect with a pen otherwise.”  
“I just never had it in me. I should have tried writing political poetry.” Alexander laughed, and after a moment Burr chimed in. 

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, tangled up in each other, and then, after what felt like hours, there was a new voice.  
“Alex, dinner is ready! Are you-”   
John Laurens froze when he spotted them, and Burr hastily shoved Hamilton off his lap and jumped to his feet, brushing grass off his pants.  
“Burr.” Laurens' emotions were carefully concealed, but Burr prepared for a punch. Surely he wouldn't be as quick with forgiving him as Alexander was.

Laurens moved his hand, and Burr flinched, but the blow never came. Instead, his own hand was grabbed and he was pulled into a rather awkward, one-armed hug.  
“Welcome home. Alex says I'm not allowed to be mad at you”, Laurens whispered into his ear, and Burr all but sobbed. Home sounded nice.  
When he pulled away, Alexander was already standing next to them, and reached in to pull Laurens into a deep kiss, laughing when he pulled away and saw Burr's raised eyebrows.  
“We're in the afterlife, Burr, don't be such a prude!”

They exchanged another kiss, and Burr felt a sting in his chest as he watched.  
“So... would you like to join us for dinner? Philip has become quite a good cook”, Alexander said once they had parted and he could look away from Laurens long enough to glance at Burr.  
“No... no”, Burr replied, shaking his head, “That's very kind of you, but I need to... I need to go find my wife.”  
Alexander nodded in understanding. “Well, you're always welcome in our home. The next time we see each other, I'll teach you how to go to the world of the living so you can watch over your daughter like I do after Eliza and my children.”  
That sounded tempting enough to make Burr nod immediately.

Besides, Alexander was there, and Laurens seemed to be willing to be his friend, and maybe Philip would come to like him, too. Maybe, just maybe, death could mean a new beginning for him. A family.  
Laurens pressed a kiss to Alexander's neck, causing the shorter man to laugh, and Burr smiled fondly at them.

“Just one more thing, Alexander. I think you were wrong.”  
Alexander furrowed his brows. “About a lot of things, yes, but what specifically?”  
Burr reached out to touch his friend's chest, right above his heart.  
“You've always had poetry in you. It's right there.”


End file.
